Epic Farm Boy

by Sam Ferguson

  “I’m not sure we’d call Lickedintime the most powerful kingdom,” Simplin replied with a scoff. “Frankly, I don’t think he could do much more than wipe his own nose outside of that bog-bound, mist-cursed miniature domain of his. Where are his armies, and why aren’t they marching north to destroy Ski—”

  Arethel lashed out and clasped her hand over Simplin’s mouth. “Like, don’t say that name! You can never, ever, ever, ever say that name!” She slowly sat back down, watching Simplin the whole time. “Now, he doesn’t have any armies, but he has the most fearsome city guard over at Lickedintime.”

  “Please, this is all so… riveting, continue.”

  Arethel smiled and nodded happily. “I glanced at the position of the sun. Nearly midnight. Surely the king was asleep by now, and the guards would be getting sleepy too.”

  “Whoa – hold up. You looked for the position of the sun, at midnight? And why would the guards be sleepy, they do rotate shifts don’t they?”

  Arethel huffed and continued talking over him. “I looked around and took a cautious step out from my hiding place behind the evergreen tree. Suddenly, something large barreled into my chest. I landed on my back hard, stifling a grunt of pain. I lifted my head and peered at the figure through the tears in my eyes.

  ‘“Abelard?’ I said as I shoved my feathery friend off my chest. ‘What are you doing here?’

  “Abelard is my pet eagle, you see, with a ten foot wingspan and talons like meat hooks. So, naturally he can hit you from anywhere and surprise you! Anyway, he looked intently at me and gave a soft screech. I took that to mean he was worried about me. After all, rescuing a prisoner from Lickedintime is no easy feat!

  “So, I of course told Abelard that I was fine, and then I said, ‘but I have something I need to do now, and I cannot take you with me.’ Then an idea popped into my head. ‘If I am not back in an hour’s time, take this to Damon,’ I said and I took some parchment and a quill from my pocket and…

  “I’m sorry, just a couple of things,” Simplin said. “First, how does an eagle tell when an hour is up? Second, you carry a quill and parchment in your pocket? Where do you keep the ink?”

  “I got into the habit of carrying those around since I became a ranger, everyone has those supplies.”

  “I thought you said you hung out with shady crowds, now you’re saying you’re a ranger?”

  “Well, yes, I mean, a ranger has to have informants, right? It makes sense if you think about it.”

  Simplin shook his head.

  “So, I scrawled a quick note. Someone had to know about the prisoner and rescue him in case I failed. I rolled up the note and attached it to Abelard’s outstretched leg.

  ‘“One hour,’ I reminded him, then I gave him a loving pat on the head. Good old Abe. He understood so much.” Arethel sighed and smiled pleasantly. “I always consider myself fortunate that we had become partners that day before ranger training. I could not ask for a more loyal friend or companion.”

  “But, back to the exciting rescue that has me on the edge of my seat,” Simplin prompted.

  “Right! So, I started a silent, but ground-eating gallop up to the edge of the moat.”

  “Were you on horseback? I thought you were on the ground.”

  “No, silly, I was running at a gallop. I can be quite fast when I want to be. Do try and pay attention.”

  “Believe me, I am trying,” Simplin said.

  “So, I glanced down at the water. It was black and still save for the occasional ripples from the movements of rats and frogs. Reaching under my tunic, I unraveled a rope from around my waist, and from my book I removed a carefully wrapped metal hook.”

  “More standard-issue ranger equipment?” Simplin asked.

  “Well, it was the best way I had come up with to smuggle the supplies without drawing suspicion from anyone who saw me on the way to King Nunya’s castle. To one end of the rope I tied the hook. The other, I grasped tightly in my hand.

  “In a large, circling motion, I swung the rope and the hook in the air around my head and flung it across the moat. The hook sank through the snow and buried itself into the ground underneath. Luckily the ground had not yet frozen solid. I gave the rope a hard tug to make sure it was secure and jumped over the edge of the moat, rope tight in hand.”

  “Wait, I’m sorry, you threw the hook into the ground, which was parallel to you? Are you sure you didn’t throw the hook high up on the wall and swing across?”

  “No silly, I knew what I was doing, okay? It worked just fine. I don’t need you to mansplain what I already did.”

  “I’m just trying to keep up with your grasp of physics, oh wise one,” Simplin said.

  (Jack hurriedly makes a quick note to say that he is totally on board with the feminist movement, and that his characters’ argument is supposed to be played for laughs only, and not taken seriously.)

  “Anyway, my feet landed hard against the inside moat wall. My heart caught for one breathtaking moment as I struggled to control the rope. I then started climbing the rope, one hand over the other, dragging my body up the wall and to the edge.”

  “Wait, what? I thought you said the hook went into the ground.”

  “I said I hooked it onto the parapets,” Arethel countered. “Do keep up, okay?”

  Simplin rubbed a weary hand over his face. Listening to this elf was exhausting!

  “So, after heaving myself over the edge, I had to pause. Desperate gasps for air ripped my lungs. I covered my mouth with my left hand to stifle the sound. Once I had recovered from the terrifying leap and climb, I dislodged the hook from the ground and hid it and the rope in a snow pile close to the castle’s wall.”

  “See, you said the ground again,” Simplin protested.

  “Obviously, I threw it over the wall and it hooked the ground inside the wall, how else could I have done all that?”

  “Obviously,” Simplin echoed sarcastically.

  “Do you want me to finish the story or not?”

  “Well, actually—”

  “Let her finished, Simplin,” Lucas cut in. “And do try to be quiet, you’ve woken me up twice now.”

  Simplin turned and scowled at the epic farm boy, but Lucas was already snoring before the wizard could say a thing.

  “So, the half-hidden door stood before me. My stomach dropped when I thought of how far I still had to go. Once inside, I would have to overtake any guards there, hope the prisoner really was where Kert had drunkenly said he was, and make it back across the moat with the prisoner in one piece.

  “My head spun. How had I ever thought I could be able to manage all that? I looked back across the moat. It was too late to go back now.”

  “I thought you were inside the outer wall, on the ground, how could you see the moat again.”

  “Will you please stop interrupting? It’s really rude, and like, I have been patient up to this point, but I have just about had enough of your rudeness.”

  Simplin raised a hand and conjured up a cup of coffee to help keep himself awake for the rest of the story. He decided it was likely best not to point out every flaw in Arethel’s story, otherwise it might never end. All he really needed to know was that Lucas was safe. The rest was just icing on the cake, as it were. So, he politely nodded and put on his best fake smile while sneakily pulling out his cell phone, holding it just behind his leg, and checking for updates on Faceplace.

  “I can see the light from your phone,” Arethel said. “Gosh, did you think I was stupid? Put that away.”

  Simplin grimaced and stuff the thing back into his robes. “Forgive me, I uh… was just checking on my mother, she’s been sick.”

  “Aww, bless your little heart! That’s totes Mcsweet!” Arethel said as she clasped her hands together.

  “Yep,” Simplin said with a smile. “Totes!”

  “So, like, the image of Lucas being tortured and killed instead of being able to bring my sister back from the dead and marry her finally gave me the nerve
to start ripping ivy off the door. After a few moments, and not a few scratches I’ll have you know, my hand bumped into a large, brass knob. I pulled hard on it. Nothing. After a few more tries, I turned the knob and pushed on the door. This time, the door gave way. I opened the door only wide enough for me to slip inside. The door opened to a small corridor, with a path leading to the right and a path leading to the left. All the walls were lit with torches casting their eerie shadows over the cobwebs and skeletons of small rodents. I could see why the officers called it the Dungeon of Despair; and a shiver ran through me. The place had a cold feeling that had nothing to do with the temperature. It was, totes mcscareville!”

  Simplin smiled and nodded before taking another sip of his coffee to prevent himself from speaking. Can’t be much longer now, old boy, keep your chin up.

  “So, I turned to carefully close the door, but to my horror, the door slammed shut with one of those automatic closing hinge thingies. The door’s reverberating echo thundered through the corridor. I kept perfectly still, and held my breath. I could hear movement and murmurs coming from my right, so I darted down the left path.”

  “Naturally,” Simplin said with a polite nod. “The smart thing to do, in such situations.”

  “Riiight?!” Arethel agreed with an emphatic nod. “Anyway, so the ground quickly turned into a sloping staircase riddled with cobwebs. I nearly flew down the stairs, because I was running super-fast. Down, down I went. Finally, I stepped off the last stair and slipped into the shadows to plan my next move. The corridor continued, but instead of torches lining the walls, there were cells with thick, metal bars. Above each cell someone had crudely carved numbers. I could just make them out, because of my half-elf eyes. I could see odd numbers on the left, and even numbered cells on the right, so I knew that cell thirteen had to be at the very end on the left-hand side.

  “So, knowing that whoever had made the noises earlier would eventually come down here to check that all was still well, I would have to act fast. I glided down the corridor, moving my feet noiselessly. The cells flashed by: seven, nine, eleven, and then thirteen!

  “I slid to a stop, dust on the floor causing me to slide a few inches past my intended stop. There was only one torch at this end of the corridor. At first, I thought the cell was empty, but then I saw the outline of a figure sitting up from where it had been lying on the ground.

  ‘“Who is that?’ a voice croaked.

  “And I was like, ‘A friend.’ You know, sounding all mysterious, but also cool at the same time, right?! Then I was like, ‘Just give me one minute and I will have you out of there.’

  “The figure stood and stumbled over to where I was standing, his filthy hands grasping the cell bars as if they were the only thing in the world holding him upright. His face was thrown into sharp relief from the glow of the nearby torch, and I had to stifle a scream. The man had dark, matted hair that nearly brushed his shoulders and the beginnings of a scraggly beard hid most of his face. The skin was showing many different shades of blue and black and red bumps and bruises. I could only imagine how much worse his beaten face would look if he did not have a beard. But it was his eyes that frightened me the most. Looking into them was like gazing into a long tunnel where the last flickering light at the end was about to be snuffed out.”

  “But,” Simplin cut in, against his better judgment. “Lucas doesn’t have a mark on him, what are you talking about?”

  “Yeah, well, I had been too hasty in my running down the hall,” Arethel replied. “I looked up and realized I was at cell fifteen, and not thirteen. So, it was a different guy.”

  “So then what?” Simplin asked.

  “Well, so then I was conflicted, you know? I mean, I had just told him I was there to help, but since I didn’t know him, and he could be like a cold-blooded murderer or something, I didn’t actually want to let him out. So, I just told him I would be right back. I know, it makes me a bit of a flaky liar, but it was all I could think of. So I slipped back to cell thirteen and motioned for Lucas to come over, but quietly.

  ‘“Who are you?’ Lucas asked me.

  ‘“That is not important right now,’ I told him as I dug a hairpin out of my hair. I twisted it and shoved it into the great metal lock of the cell, wiggling it this way and that, cringing each time the lock made a noise.

  Suddenly, Lucas reached through the bars and grabbed my arm, making it impossible for me to continue picking the lock. His eyes were narrowed. ‘You wear the uniform of a Lickedintime ranger,’ he said.

  I resisted the urge to poke Lucas in the eye, I mean, Liriel told me how much she loved his eyes, so I figured I shouldn’t blind one of them, right? So I kind of stammered, saying, ‘No, I mean, yes, I am a ranger, but I am here to help. If you would kindly release my hand, I will have this door unlocked and then we must be off.’ When he still didn’t release my hand, I added, “Idiot! People are moving this way. If I do not get you out now, all hell is going to break loose!’

  “So, finally, his trembling fingers slowly uncurled themselves from my arm and I was free to pick the lock. After one more minute of furious work, the lock gave a loud click. I winced at the sound. Blast those old, rusty metals, they’re always so loud! There was no time to lose, though, so I yanked open the door, sending an unearthly screeching through the corridor.

  ‘“Come on!’ I cried. ‘Someone—no, everyone down there must have heard that.’ Lucas stumbled weakly out of the cell. I grabbed one of his arms and threw it over my shoulder. I half dragged him up the corridor. Already I could hear movements coming our way, and somewhere I thought I heard a bell tolling.

  “I darted up the stairs, breathing heavy from the effort of dragging Lucas along. I reached around to my quiver of arrows slung across my back and yanked one out, brandishing it like a spear.

  “The first royal guard rounded a corner, and I shoved Lucas to the side. With a quick kick, I disarmed the man, spun him around, and grabbed him from behind, arm wrapped around his throat and placed the edge of the arrow against his bobbing Adam’s apple.

  ‘“Grab on to me!’ I shrieked at Lucas. ‘Stay behind me,’ I told him. I felt pressure where Lucas grabbed onto the tops of my shoulders. ‘You,’ I spat in the guard’s ear, ‘walk us to the entrance.’

  “Of course, at that point, the rest of the guards were in view, about six, but they stopped cold when they saw what was going on.

  ‘“Release him!’ the guard in front demanded.

  “But I held my ground. I was like, ‘No way!’ And I dug the tip of the arrow into my hostage’s skin until he gave a yelp of pain. ‘Let us through, or I will kill him,’ I told the others.

  Simplin sighed as Arethel jumped up to her feet, miming the whole action sequence like some sort of poorly acted play at a primary school.

  “The guards looked uneasily at each other. Did they have an order to keep the hostage at all costs, even if they had to kill one of their own to do so? I didn’t know. It was very tense. Like, super intense! But luckily, if they did have such an order, they ignored it, because the front guard held out his hands in surrender. He and the other five guards moved to stand against one side of the wall, making a path for us to go through.

  “Slowly, my hands tense and ready for action should the need arise, I pushed the guard forward. When we drew even with the other guards, I turned to put my hostage in between us and the other guards. Then I made them walk backwards so I could keep an eye on them.

  “After what seemed like an eternity, we made it to the entrance. ‘Open the door,’ I said to the hostage. He did, and the three of us sidled out.

  ‘“Get the rope,’ I said, indicating with my head at the pile of snow.

  “Lucas was shivering uncontrollably, but somehow managed to extract the rope from the snow. Arrow still pressed against my hostage’s throat, I took the rope and swung it around my head like I had earlier, sending the hook sailing across the moat to dig into the semi-soft ground on the other side.”

 
“Not into the evergreen tree?” Simplin tried to prompt.

  “Shush! You’re ruining a fantastic story!”

  “Sorry,” Simplin offered as he drank the last of his coffee and offered up a silent request to Jack that the story would end very, very soon.

  “So, I looked at my hostage and was like, ‘Do not try anything!’ Then I turned to Lucas and said. ‘You, lock your arms around my waist.’ He did so, his shivering making my body shake as well. Without warning, I smacked the guard in the head in just the right place, rendering him unconscious before he even hit the ground. Then I was like, ‘Hold on!’ With a running start, I flew through the air, with Lucas still holding onto my waist. My fingers nearly lost their grip on the rope when we thudded into the wall on the other side. ‘Help me as much as you can,’ I told Lucas.

  “I’m sorry, there are two walls now? A moment ago you started by running from an open forest and leaping over a moat, then climbing over one wall, then down the wall to the courtyard and into the prison. Now you have come out of the prison, through the wall’s gate, and leapt across the moat and smacked into a second wall? Am I missing something?” Simplin asked.

  “Obviously, come on, try to pay attention. It’s disrespectful to just pretend to be listening.”

  “Right…” Simplin said slowly with a shake of his head.

  “So together, our four hands pulled our battered bodies up the rope until we finally reached the edge. With the last bit of strength we could muster, I pulled myself and Lucas up over the edge. We laid there panting and wheezing for a few minutes, but I knew we had to keep moving to avoid the guards that were surely coming after us.

  “Just then, like, a knife flew out of nowhere, nearly striking my ear off. ‘Get down!’ I cried. Lucas ducked and ran until he was hidden in the nearby forest. Across the moat, I saw that the guards had caught up with the one I had hit. Their eyes were focused not on me, but on a point farther north. I heard what they were looking at before I had time to turn and see for myself.”